


Left Us Broken

by HeavenlyDisaster



Series: The Wolf and the Bull [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Gendrya - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Forest Love, I Tried, Sharing a Bed, dad mode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 12:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18756337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenlyDisaster/pseuds/HeavenlyDisaster
Summary: 8x04 happens and our heroes leave Winterfell.  What happens on the road leads to the castle...?





	Left Us Broken

**GENDRY**

He should’ve just let that arrow hit him.  He _wished_ that arrow had hit him.  He had been given so much.  A name.  A title.  A home of his own.  And not just a home.  A bloody castle!  Just… _given_ to him.  Like it was nothing.  But he was a lord now.  And lords had the power to choose.  And he chose Arya.

But she didn’t choose him.

Gendry slammed his fist into the stone wall barely feeling it when his knuckles burst and began to bleed.  He slammed his fist into the wall again.  He was so _stupid_.  Stupid stupid stupid.  He turned and pushed his back against the wall and slid down it.

Fuck a lordship.  Fuck a castle.  Fuck Arya fucking Stark.

Gendry felt guilty for thinking it before he’d even finished the thought.  It was his fault, really.  He should have known better.  He _did_ know better.  Just because she _looked_ like a lady didn’t mean that was what she wanted.  She was beautiful.  She killed the Night King.  She saved the world.  _That’s_ who Arya Stark was.  Not a wife.

Still… he had hoped she loved him.  He thought she did.  The way she’d acted the night before he was sure.  None of the girls he’d been with before had ever kissed him like _that_.  Like their whole life depended on him kissing them back.  She had gone to him.  She’d chosen him and she could’ve chosen anybody.  That had to mean… something.

“You get into a fight withou’ me?”

Gendry craned his head up to look at Tormund Giantsbane wobbling over him.  He stunk of wine and that disgusting fermented goats milk he liked to drink so much.  Gendry’s eyes still felt hot from pain and embarrassment.  He looked away.

“Not really.”

Tormund leaned his head against the wall and stared blearily down at him.  Gendry tried not to show how uncomfortable he was.

“You’re a lord now.” Tormund slurred.  “Like Lord Snow.”  That made the wildling chuckle.  “Goin’ to ride a dragon like him?”

“No I’m not going to ride a dragon!” Gendry snapped.

Tormund frowned.  “Afraid, Lordy Loo?”

“Ah, shut it.  I’m not a lord.”

Tormund used his forehead to push himself off the wall.  Gendry watched as the big man teetered precariously.  After a beat, the wildling stood upright.

“That silver queen says you are.  Thought you were happy about it.  You even smiled.” Tormund pointed at his face.  “First time I seen you smile.”

“Yeah, well, all that doesn’t matter now does it?”

Tormund frowned.  “Doesn’t matter?  You forget we fought off those White Walkers together?  We survived the Long Night together, you and me.  Everything matters now.”  Tormund turned and slumped against the walls beside him.  “’Course, I was a lot happier when death loomed over our heads.  When I still had hope that the big woman would be mine.”

“Eh? Big woman?”

“Brienne.” Tormund explained.  “Beautiful woman with the strength to rival bears.”

“The one with Jaime Lannister?”

Tormund growled and flung his horn against the far wall.  “Fuckin’ Lannister!”

Gendry leaned on his knees and tried to ignore the pain in his heart.  In his gut.  Everywhere.

Tormund’s meaty hand dropped down on Gendry’s shoulder.  He jostled him roughly.  “What about you?  You hit someone?”

Gendry turned his hand over to look at the bloodied knuckles.  His hand looked garish.  He flexed his fingers, wincing as he tried to pull them into a fist.  Punching the wall was stupid.  How was he supposed to hold his hammer with his hand smashed to bits?  Stupid.  Stupid stupid stupid.

“Well?”

“Huh?”

“What’d you do?  Who’d you hit?”

“Oh.  Uh.  The wall.” Gendry answered sheepishly.

Tormund tipped his head up against the wall and squinted as if expecting to see the stone broken where he’d hit.  Gendry gritted his teeth.  Maybe if he’d really been strong enough to crush stone beneath his fist Arya would think he was worthy of her.  Maybe she’d love someone like that.

“What’d the wall do to ye?”  Tormund asked seriously.

“Wasn’t the wall, but it’s not like I can punch myself in the face.”  Gendry griped.

“What?  You want to be hit in the face?”

“Well, sort of feels like I al–”

Tormund slugged him on the jaw hard.  His head snapped sideways so far the other side of his face hit the wall.  Gendry let out a gasp and rubbed his jaw.

“Fucks sake!”  Gendry shouted.

Tormund shrugged at him nonchalantly.  “Man tells me he wants to be hit in the face, I hit a man in the face.”

“I didn’t _ask_!”

Tormund shrugged his big shoulders again and withdrew a flask of wine from somewhere in the folds of his clothes.  He unscrewed the top and took a big drink before passing it to Gendry.  Gendry glared at the man a few seconds more before accepting the flask and drinking deeply.  They sat in silence for a while passing the flask back and forth.

“So,” Tormund started.  “Why’d you ask me to hit you in the face?”

“I didn’t ask –” He huffed knowing full well the wildling didn’t care if he asked or not.  “I asked a girl to marry me, but she said no.”

“You Southerners and your marriage.” Tormund scoffed.  “Just find a good girl to fuck and be done with it.”

Gendry shook his head.  “I love her.”

“I love Brienne.  But she’s in there fucking that golden twat.”  Tormund chuckled.  “I like that word.  The Dog taught me that one.  And cock.”  He chuckled again.  “Your girl fucking some other twat then?”

“No!” Gendry said quickly.  Then paused.  He looked around the yard.  “I don’t think she would be.  She’s not… that kind of girl.  She wouldn’t do that.”

“They all do that.”  Tormund argued.

“Not her.  She wouldn’t.  I mean, she never had before me anyway.” Gendry felt his face heating just remembering last night.

Tormund scoffed.  “They all say that.”

“What?”

Tormund gave him a pitied look.  “There’s not one girl in fifty that’s untouched even if she says she is.  They’ve all fucked and been fucked and they think that we’re all too dumb to know the difference.”  Tormund tapped the side of his nose.  “I always know.”

Gendry was quiet for a second.  “How do you tell the difference?”

Tormund laughed.  “I’ve only lain with two virgins in my life, but they were both so skittish.  Like they’d never seen a cock before.  They take a while to warm to the idea.  Mostly they just lay there whimpering while you fuck them.  Non-virgins have already warmed to the idea.  They don’t always lie there.  They take charge.  Gods.  I love it when they do that.  Then _you_ get to be the one that sits back while they have a go.”

Gendry frowned in thought.  He cleared his throat.  “Suppose she’s just a feisty girl.  She’s a fighter.  Someone who can kill White Walkers and murderers and rapists.  What about that?”

Tormund cackled.  “You’ve never met a wildling woman.  That’s all of them!  They’d as soon cut your cock off as sleep with ye!  It’s always a gamble.  Even with the virgin ones.  … _Especially_ with the virgin ones.”

Gendry got to his feet with no shortage of effort.  He’d had a lot to drink before he’d finally found Arya.  If he had to guess, he’d say he’d just drank twice that sitting with Tormund who had the magical ability to pull flasks of wine and rum and whiskey from seemingly nowhere.  Gendry leaned against the wall for balance.

“You’re wrong.  Arry’s not like that.” Gendry slurred.  “She wouldn’t lie to me.”

Tormund scoffed again.  “We all lie when it suits us.”

“Not her.”

Gendry stumbled away from him and into the courtyard.  He squinted blearily around him.  Jon’s dire wolf tripped over to him and licked at his bloody hand.  Gendry patted the animal’s thick coat absently.

He didn’t know what to do with himself.  He knew he’d gotten by just fine without Arya for four years when he thought she was dead and he was hiding away in King’s Landing.  He had done it before.  Before….  If only she hadn’t kissed him!  He’d be able to remember what to do without her if she hadn’t kissed him.  He wouldn’t have made such a gods damned fool of himself if she hadn’t kissed him.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid _stupid_! 

He stopped and looked around.  Somehow he’d wandered to the main gates of Winterfell and through them.  He stared out at the ash blackened snow.  Before him lie the King’s Road.  He could take it south.  Just start walking and never look back.  What was the point in staying?  Sure, he was meant to be fighting in the queen’s war, but what was the point of that?  Cersei would be killed with or without his help.  And even if they took away Storm’s End again what did it matter?

He heard a woman’s voice speaking in a different language approaching from the gates.  A man’s voice answered her in the same language.  Gendry sniffled against the bite of Northern cold and shuffled to the side so they could pass.

“Lord Gendry?” The woman said in the common tongue. 

Gendry looked up at Missandei.  He sniffed again and shook his head.  “Don’t call me that.” _Gods I’m turning into Arya_.

Missandei looked at Torgo Nudho with confusion.  “But you are Lord Gendry Baratheon now.  Our queen has made it so.”

Gendry’s hands fisted at his sides.  “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

The two foreigners were quiet.  He knew they were likely exchanging sidelong glances about his ungrateful behavior.  He stared at the ash piles and thought of the dead.  If Arya hadn’t been around he’d be just another pile of ash.  Or worse.  A White Walker.

“Did you lose someone?” Missandei asked carefully.

Gendry glanced at her and back out at the piles of ash.  He nodded solemnly.  “Yeah, I guess….”  He cleared his throat.  “Yes.  I did.”  Just the love of his life.

“Maybe you should go back inside and get some rest.” Missandei suggested gently.

Gendry looked back through the gate and tried not to think about who was still on the other side.  Maybe he really would be better off walking back to King’s Landing.  He let out a heavy sigh and pushed his gloved fingers into his left eye.

“Yeah, sleep.  I should probably sleep.”

**ARYA**

“None of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me.  So be with me.”  Arya shoves the heels of her hands into her eyes.  What did he have to go and do something stupid and propose for? 

She sat in a chair by the fire in her room.  The rest of the castle was asleep.  She should be asleep, too, but instead Gendry and his damned proposal was sticking in her head.

“You’re beautiful and I love you.” He’d said.

Beautiful.  Her?  Arya Horseface?  But Gendry said it like he meant it.  Really meant it.  And he loved her.  Arya pulled her knee up to rest her chin on it.  She didn’t deserve that.  He didn’t know anything about what she’d done.  How many people she’d killed.  He didn’t know and if he did he wouldn’t say something stupid like he loved her.

Arya watched the sun rise slowly into the sky.  He loved her, but she couldn’t love him.  She _did_.  But she couldn’t.  It wasn’t possible.  She wasn’t a lady.  She wasn’t going to be graceful and elegant and spend her days ordering servants about.  Sit on the sidelines while the men think up war strategies.  She was the savior of the realm.  She would not sit idle.  Not even for Gendry.

So she couldn’t love him.  She couldn’t.  And she definitely couldn’t marry him.  Arya glared at the fire like it had offended her.

“’Be my wife’ he says,” she snarled at the flames.  “I’m not Sansa.  I’m not taking a backseat to this war.  I’m not a lady.  I’m a wolf.”  She told the fire.

Her shoulders sagged.  She wished they were back in the Riverlands.  Gendry _Waters_ would have never asked her to marry him and be his wife.  That was something Gendry _Baratheon_ did.  Lord Gendry Baratheon.  Arya preferred the bastard.

He was so happy.  Excited for his new name.  His new title.  And why shouldn’t he be?  He’d lived so long with nothing.  He should be happy.  And who knows?  Maybe some fair maiden would appear to steal away his heart and be Lady of Storm’s End for him.

Something vicious and bitter rose up in her chest.  She’d told Gendry as much earlier, but it left a sour taste in her mouth.  She didn’t want him with other girls.  She covered her face again and shut her eyes.  Horrible.  Everything was so horrible.  She couldn’t be with him the way he wanted her to be and she couldn’t bear the thought of him moving on.

She had work to do.  She had names to cross off.  The Mountain still breathed as did Cersei.  And she figured she might as well cross Euron Greyjoy off, too, in honor of Theon.  Maybe if she survived she could start to think –

Why the hell did he have to propose?  They could’ve been in bed together if he hadn’t been so….  Arya found Cat’s Paw in her hand without remembering pulling it from her waist.  She flipped it uneasily.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  One hand then the other and back again. 

“Cersei, the Mountain, Euron.  Cersei, the Mountain, Euron.  Cersei, the Mountain, Euron.” Arya said quietly.  As long as she thought about the names, she could stop thinking about Gendry.

A knock sounded at her door.  She flipped her dagger in the air and caught it up again.  She eyed the door suspiciously.

“Come in.” She invited.

The door creaked open and Sansa stood in the doorway.  Arya turned and looked back into the fire.  _The forge fires burned brighter_.  Her thoughts came unbidden.  _Gendry always looks best in front of the forge fires._

“Are you coming to the war council?”

Arya blinked at the floor and looked back at her sister.  She didn’t like Daenerys.  Didn’t trust her.  Arya didn’t know her reasons, but she trusted her sister more than a stranger.

Sansa squinted at her. “Have you slept at all?”

Arya glared at Sansa.  She didn’t respond.  She only slipped Cat’s Paw back into the sheath and stood up.  She hadn’t even tried to undress last night.  Too many thoughts of Gendry’s hands on her skin.  His lips. 

“You’re alright?” Sansa insisted.  She put her gloved hand on Arya’s shoulder in an effort to be a comforting big sister.  Arya shook the hand off.

“I’m fine.” She snapped.  “Are we going or what?”

“Wait.” 

Arya turned back and arched her left eyebrow at Lady Stark.  Sansa pursed her lips thoughtfully.  It was more a scowl than anything else.  An amusing look for Arya to see on her demure sister.  Scowls were decidedly _not_ ladylike.  Just ask Septa Mordane.

“Can you tell me honestly?” Sansa asked.

“Can I tell you what honestly?” Arya returned, guarded.

“What do you think of the queen?”

Arya frowned thoughtfully.  “Which one?”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “Ar _ya_.”

“She isn’t worse than Cersei.  Her and her dragons saved us.  Without them, I never would have gotten to the Night King.”  Arya sighed.  “But I know you don’t trust her and I trust you.  You have good instincts.”

Sansa seemed baffled at the admission.  “But what do _you_ think of her?”

“I already told you what I think.”

The war council was not the most interesting part of her day.  The queen refused to wait.  She wanted her throne.  No matter the cost to her people.  Arya didn’t appreciate that.  If they had done as Sansa suggested and held off just a bit, Arya could have nipped down to King’s Landing and knocked the crown off Cersei’s blonde head with no one the wiser.  She still _could_ , it would just be a bit harder now.

No.  The most interesting part of her day was Jon telling them that he was really Aegon Targaryen and that their father – the honorable Ned Stark – had lied about his true parentage to protect him.  Arya stayed with Bran at the Weirwood tree long after Sansa had stormed off and Jon had gone helplessly after her.

“You have choices ahead of you now.” Bran announced from his chair.

“Everybody has choices ahead of them.” Arya lobbed back.

“You’re back at the crossroads.”  Bran insisted.  “Which way will you go this time?”

Arya stared at her brother.  He kept insisting that he wasn’t really.  He was the Three-Eyed Raven.  Not Brandon Stark.  Not her brother or the Lord of Winterfell.  And Jon wasn’t her brother anymore either.  Was Sansa really the only sibling she had left? 

Gendry had disappeared completely.  She knew he was hiding from her.  She also knew there was nothing she could do to make him feel better.  He didn’t understand.  Loathe as she was to admit it, she loved him.  She wished she didn’t.  It would make everything between them less painful.  For both of them.

Arya looked at the face in the Weirwood.  Two nights ago she had stood in this exact spot and plunged her dagger into the heart of the Night King.  Arya let out a heavy breath and turned away from the tree.  Away from Bran.  Away from the North.

**SANDOR**

“Where’d you run off to after you robbed me and left me to die?” Sandor asked over their fire.  Arya was skinning the rabbit she’d caught.  She looked over at him evenly.

“I went to Braavos.” She told him simply and returned to skinning the rabbit.

Sandor scoffed.  “What’d you go there for?  Hoping to find your dancing master alive and well?”

“No.  I went to train with the Faceless Men.” Arya set the prepared rabbit over the flame and sat back while it cooked.

Sandor frowned at her.  He’d heard of the Faceless Men.  Crazy assassins, the lot of them.  And expensive.  With good reason.  Whisper a name to a Faceless Man and you had a guarantee that whatever cunt you wanted dead was six feet deep.

“You joined a bloody cult.” He grunted out at last.

The corner of Arya’s mouth twitched up reluctantly.

Sandor sighed.  His mouth had started watering at the smell of cooking meat.  “Why’d they let you go then?  Too mouthy?”

Arya pulled a flask out and took a sip before tossing it to Sandor.  He caught it deftly and took a big swallow.  Then another.  He sighed and leaned back against a rock.

“I learned what I needed.  I didn’t want to stay anymore.”

“And they just let you go?”  Sandor found that hard to believe.  He hadn’t been joking when he’d called them a cult.

Arya shrugged and pulled the rabbit from the fire.  She pulled off a leg and handed the spit to him.  Sandor accepted the rabbit, but glared at her silence nonetheless.  He never thought he’d miss her unending chattering.  In fact, it had been the first thing he missed after he came to at that Septon’s home.

Two days later, Sandor could stand the silence no longer.  If she wasn’t going to talk why bother riding with him?  He took a drink from his own flask and passed it over to Arya.  She took a drink and handed it back.

“That smith was looking for you back at Winterfell.  He ever find you?”

Sandor looked over at her.  Her face was strangely blank.  Like she was putting in extra effort to remain emotionless.  She didn’t say anything.  She didn’t even acknowledge that he’d said anything.  He knew full well that she had heard him.  They were the only two around for miles. 

“Girl, if you aren’t going to talk what did you follow after me for?” Sandor snapped at last.

Arya frowned.  “I told you I’ve changed.”  She said in that deadened voice of hers.  He hated it.  Hated how lifeless she always sounded now.

“Did he do something to you?” He didn’t really think the twat had it in him to do anything awful to her.  Idiot that he was, the boy was hopelessly in love with her.  Anyone with eyes could see that.

“Went and had himself made Lord of Storm’s End I suppose.”

Sandor scowled at the road ahead of them.  “So?  Havin’ something against him now he’s a lord is just the same as if you had something against him being a bastard.”

Arya was quiet for a long while.  Sandor wanted to rip her head off her shoulders and kick it down the road.  She was more infuriating now than when she was spontaneously stabbing soldiers with his knife.

“He asked me to marry him.” She said at last.

Sandor nearly fell off his horse.  _Stupid fucking twat_!  When he asked after Arya he hadn’t thought the stupid fucking idiot meant to do something like that.  It was lucky Sandor had decided to ride out on his own.  He was of the mind try to beat sense into the fool.  Lord or not.  What kind of idiot asks a girl to marry him just like that?

“Running away then.” Sandor said decisively.

“I’m not running away.”

“Sure you’re not.” Sandor said acerbically. 

“It’s true.  I’m going to kill Cersei.  And Euron Greyjoy.  And the Mountain.”

Sandor felt the scars on his face prickle.  “You listen here, girl, the only one’s going to kill my brother is _me_.  You understand?  This is _my_ justice.  Mine.”

Arya looked at him with those steady grey eyes.  He watched them dart over to the right side of his face.  Assessing.  She tipped her head at him in acquiescence. 

They were quiet a long while after that.  Three days, maybe four, passed without so much as a grunt passing between them.  Sandor stopped to piss and noticed a large paw print in the mud in front of his tree.  He fixed up his trousers and started back for Arya.  The horses looked like they were ready to bolt.  Something spooked them.  Arya looked over at him when he returned.

“Wolves in the area.” Sandor reported.

Arya nodded and looked out into the trees.  Sandor squinted at her.  She looked almost hopeful.  Sandor remembered the size of the paw print.  The last time he’d traveled down the road with the Stark sisters they’d both had dire wolves.  The little bird’s beast was slain not a day’s ride up the road.  Arya’s had disappeared.

She said nothing, just mounted her horse again and started down the road without waiting for him.  Sandor cursed and hurried after her.  She rode faster after the wolves.  Sandor thought that was strange seeing as how hopeful she had been to see them.  Hoping that one of them was her beast most like.  She pulled up at the inn at the crossroads.

“There’s good food here.” She told him simply.  She dismounted and handed her reins to the stable boy without waiting for his input.

Sandor jumped down from his mount and dropped the reins in the stable boy’s outstretched hand.  He followed Arya into the inn.  There weren’t many people inside.  In a day or two, the place would be packed with soldiers.  Arya sat at a table facing the door and waited for Sandor to sit down opposite her.

Arya was looking for someone.  He could see it.  She was expecting someone here.  That’s why she was rushing.  Sandor scowled.  The food had better actually be good there.  Not that he’d complain either way.

Suddenly, Arya’s whole demeanor changed.  She didn’t look easily confident anymore.  She almost looked… scared.  It was hidden well, but Sandor could see hints of it poking out.  He looked around, wondering what she’d seen or heard.

“Hot Pie!” An old woman bellowed.

A few seconds later, a fat boy around Arya’s age came tripping from the back of the dining room up towards their table.  He paused as he caught sight of Arya.  Then, the kid’s chubby face brightened.

“Arry!” He cried.  “Can’t believe you came back.”  The kid glanced at Sandor and shrank in on himself as much as a fat twat could shrink.  “You’ll never guess who else is here!  I thought he was dead to be honest.  Anguy said the Brotherhood had to give him over to some priestess when he was in last.  That was ages ago.” The fat lout babbled.

Arya had gone stone faced.  Sandor watched her curiously.  He looked up at the fat boy.  He recognized him vaguely.  He hadn’t gone with the Brotherhood like Arya and the lord smith had.  He’d just assumed the kid belonged to the inn.  Apparently the two of them had history.

“Gendry!” The fat boy shouted.  “Gendry, come here!”

Sandor looked back at Arya.  She had shut her eyes.  Sandor understood now.  She had heard that stupid twat’s voice.  That was what brought on the stone face.  Sandor was also learning that when she did that, it usually meant she was hurting.

Arya bolted.  She shoved past fat boy and disappeared out the door.  A few seconds later, Sandor saw the idiot stand up.  He turned to look at the door.  His look of pain was more open than Arya’s.  Undisguised.

Gendry looked over to fat boy before landing on Sandor.  He turned red and grimaced before shuffling over.  The fat boy looked between Gendry and the door.

“You’ll never guess –”

“What are you doing here?” Sandor graveled.  “Thought you’d be riding with Snow and his army.”

Gendry looked at the table.  “Wanted to get a head start.”  Sandor knew what he meant. Wanted to get out of Winterfell more like.

“Stupid fucking cunt.” Sandor growled at him.  “What did you think was going to happen?  Springing a proposal on her like that.”

Gendry flushed deeper.  “She told you?”

“You proposed to someone?” The fat boy asked interestedly. “Who?”

Sandor and Gendry both stared at the fat boy.  He hadn’t thought to find a boy stupider than the lord smith.  Sandor crossed his arms and fixed Gendry with a fierce stare.

“Go on, Lord Gendry.  Tell your friend.”

Gendry ran his hand over his mouth and grimaced again.

The fat boy caught on at last.  “Not….”  He looked at Arya’s vacated seat.  “Arry?  You asked _Arry_ to marry you?”

“I was drunk.” The twat said defensively.

Sandor stood up and grabbed him by the front of his tunic.  “You stupid fucking cunt.  You get a title and a castle and you think that means something?  That girl saved the whole fucking world and you think you get to own her ‘cause she fucked you once?”

Gendry was so red he was almost purple.  “Stop.  I already know.”

“Arry did?”  Sandor dropped the lord smith and looked back at the fat boy he’d forgotten was there.  “She saved the world?”

“Killed the Night King.” Sandor confirmed.

The fat boy blanched.  “Night King?  Like the White Walker from the stories?  He’s real?”

“ _Was_ real.  Arya Stark knifed the bastard in the heart.”

“What?  Really?  Like Azzi Ahip?”

“Azor Ahai.” Sandor corrected with a groan.

“Right.”  The fat boy nodded and looked at Gendry.  “Does that make you Nissa Nissa?”

Gendry rolled his eyes at the boy.  “Azor Ahai actually _loved_ Nissa Nissa.” He muttered.

The fat boy frowned.  “Arry loves you though.  Me and Lommy used to think she was a pervert when we didn’t know she was a she.  Lommy used to laugh at the googly eyes she’d make at you whenever she thought nobody was looking.”

Gendry didn’t look happy to hear that.  He scratched the back of his head.  “She’s not Arry, Hot Pie.  And she….”  Gendry let out a sigh and rolled his head back with his eyes shut.

Stupid boy never finished his thought, just pushed his way out of the inn and outside.  Sandor stood up, looking down at the boy impassively.  Hot Pie.  Stupid name.  The boy looked up at him fearfully.

“You leaving, too, then?” He squeaked.

“Have to catch up to that girl you chased off.”

“Me?  I didn’t!” Hot Pie yelped.

“Whatever.” Sandor moved for the door.

“Wait!” Hot Pie shouted.  “Let me get you some food for your travels.  You didn’t eat.”

The boy was quick about it.  He came out with a basket, the inn keep smacking him about the head and berating him for burning something.  Hot Pie handed the basket to him sheepishly and shuffled back to the kitchen after the inn keep.

Sandor collected his mount and started down the road.  It hadn’t been that long.  She couldn’t have gotten far.  Especially not as dark as it was.  They should have stayed at the inn.  Dumb children couldn’t suck it up for a night and just sleep.  Sandor missed real beds.  Even the cold ones in Winterfell were nicer than the ground.

“-going to finish my list.”

“I know about your list.  I was there, remember?”

“Then you know I need to do this.”

“I know!”

Sandor slowed his mount.  He couldn’t figure out if they were moving or not.

“If you know, why would you ask me to give it up?”

“When did I ever ask you to do that?”

“Lady of Storm’s End.” She spit.

“Yeah, okay.  I never should have said that.  Never should have asked you to be my wife.  I was running a little hot at the time what with almost dying a few hours before.  And being legitimized and made a lord.”  The idiot paused for a beat.  “And the wine.”

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“ _Of course I want to marry you_!” He shouted.  “You wanted to be my family, too, once upon a time.”

“You wanted me to be your lady.  Not your family.”

“I didn’t _want_ that.  That’s just what we would have been.  Soon as you went back to your family.  You know it’s true.”

They were moving at a leisurely pace.  Arguing on horseback.  Leave it to two idiots to have this argument in the dead of night while a pack of wolves roamed the woods.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Arya insisted.

Gendry scoffed.  “You wouldn’t have been able to prevent it.”

They were quiet a while.  Sandor was about to start his horse into a trot to catch them when he caught something moving in the woods from the corner of his eye.  The horse caught it, too.

“I shouldn’t have asked like that, but I didn’t lie, Arya.  I love you and nothing is worth anything to me without you in my life.”

Sandor pushed his horse forward faster.  He pulled up between the lovebirds startling them both.  He looked at Arya.

“Wolves.”

Arya turned her gaze into the woods.  Sandor looked around, too, hunting for the wolves he knew were there.  Arya was remarkably calm.  She sighed as the horses began to fret.

“We’re surrounded.”  She announced.

“Surrounded?” Gendry repeated.  He turned in his saddle.

Arya whistled.  Sandor pulled his horse into the middle of the road.  Gendry’s horse went where Sandor’s horse nudged it.  Arya didn’t move.  She just kept looking into the woods.

Gendry let out a startled gasp.  Sandor followed the boys gaze and landed on two of the largest wolves he’d seen that weren’t Stark wolves.  Arya didn’t look bothered by their presence at all.  She was waiting.  Three more wolves appeared behind them.

“Survived the undead to be slaughtered by wolves.” Gendry muttered.  “Perfect.”

Arya’s shoulders sagged as a monstrous beast stepped out of the woods.  She smiled and reached her hand out.

“Nymeria.” She breathed.

The wolf sniffed her hand and moved forward to sniff her leg and belly.  Arya set her hand on the wolf’s neck tentatively.  When the beast didn’t immediately tear her arm off, she scratched it affectionately.

“I could’ve used your help a few days ago.” She told the dire wolf.  “Your brother helped out.  It’s just you and him left.”

Nymeria stretched her big head up to lick Arya’s cheek.  She let out a small laugh.  Sandor was disgusted at the beast’s ability to reach her head while she was on horseback.  He felt a tugging at his boot and noticed the heavy breathing of his mount fidgeting beneath him.

“That’s real sweet, wolf girl, but how about you call off the rest of these beasts?” He snarled.

Arya reached into her saddle back and pulled out the remnants of a rabbit she’d caught earlier that morning.  She tossed it to her beast to scarf down.  Nymeria sat down and stared at Arya expectantly.  Arya frowned.

“We’re going to King’s Landing.  Just like we were before.  I’m going to kill Cersei.  She’s the one that had your sister killed, remember?”

Sandor couldn’t believe what he was stuck with.  An idiot lord smith and an idiot wolf bitch.  And the wolf bitch was talking to her wolf like it was going to talk back.  The only thing stopping him from leaving them both behind right there and then was the pack of giant wolves everywhere.  There were more than a dozen on the road now and another dozen or more behind the tree line not including Arya’s monster.

“You didn’t want to come to Winterfell.  Do you want to come to King’s Landing?” Arya patted the beast’s neck.  “It’s alright if you don’t.  I’ll understand.”

Her beast lifted its head and let out a haunting howl that sent chills through Sandor.  It was one thing when they were pups.  And Jon Snow’s beast never howled.  Sandor knew they were dead if Arya’s beast decided on it.  There were nearly forty unnaturally large wolves on the road.

Arya glanced at Sandor and Gendry.  She nudged her horse forward who jumped at her touch.  The horse started forward slowly.  Clearly spooked like the other two.

“Come on you two.” Arya called over her shoulder.

Gendry started after her immediately.  His horse bucked a bit and the idiot clutched at his saddle until it calmed down again.  Arya’s beast padded along beside her.  It’s back came up almost as high as her horse’s.  Sandor felt a chill crawl up and down his spine.  He shook it away and started after them.

**GENDRY**

“She’s bigger than Ghost.” Gendry said, nodding to the dire wolf pacing their campsite.  Arya smiled.

“Ghost was the runt.  Not quite part of the family….” A tinge of sadness whispered over her eyes before she locked it away.

Gendry cleared his throat and cast a cautious eye at the Hound who was snoring nosily on the other side of the fire.  “I’m going to Maidenpool.”

“Maidenpool?” Arya repeated.

Gendry nodded.  “I’m supposed to be at Dragonstone.  I’m going to take a boat from there.”

“Why didn’t you go to White Harbor?  Take a ship from there?”

Gendry scratched just above his eye and wrinkled his face.  “Got lost… a bit.”  He admitted sheepishly.

Arya looked back to Nymeria.  She nodded.  Gendry pushed away the twinge in his gut.  He’d hoped she’d at least look a little sad to see him go.  Once again, he hoped for too much.

“I thought you’d go to Storm’s End.” She said.

Gendry shook his head.  “Gotta win the war before I’m lord of anything.  Besides, I already told you I don’t know the first thing about being a lord.  Dunno what they do or how they do it.  Just know they live in castles and get all the best food.”

Arya snickered.  “Food you have to use forks to eat.”

“Yeah, alright.  Maybe I’ll just die at King’s Landing and I’ll never have to embarrass myself trying to run a holdfast without knowing how to read.”

Arya was quiet.  “Don’t say that.” She whispered.

“What?  It’s true.”

Arya frowned deeply.  Her brows knit together in concern.  “Maybe you should just go to Storm’s End.”

“I’m just as much a fighter as you are.” Gendry resisted the urge to add a ‘M’lady’ at the end.

“Fine.  Just don’t go into battle thinking you’re going to die.”  She ordered.

Gendry couldn’t resist.  “Why?”

Arya pursed her lips.  “I don’t want you to die.”

Gendry knew he shouldn’t smile.  Still, he couldn’t help it.  He liked to hear her admit she cared about him.  Even just a bit.

“You don’t hate me, then?”

Arya wrinkled her face at him.  “Why would I hate you?”

Gendry pulled at the grass.  “For asking you to marry me.”

Arya rubbed her eye and looked at the Hound across the fire.  He looked dead if he weren’t snoring so loudly.  Arya stood up and reached her hand down for Gendry.  He stared up at her in wonder.  He didn’t know if he should take her hand or if it was somehow a trap.  Arya looked further into the trees, waiting for him to decide.

Gendry took her hand and got to his feet.  She led him into the trees.  Away from the fire.  Gendry licked his lips nervously.

“Should we be this far from the fire?” He whispered.

Arya looked over her shoulder at him.  “What are you afraid of?  Wolves?”

She got him there.  He didn’t suppose there were any wolves enough to rival Nymeria’s pack.  Arya found a small clearing in the trees and turned to him.  She moved slowly.  Waiting for him to stop her.  A part of him said he should, but his need of her won out.  She kissed him slowly until Gendry returned the kiss.

His arm went around her waist as he kissed her.  Irresistible.  That was the word he would use to describe Arya Stark.  She pushed his cloak off his shoulders and undid hers.  Gendry pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

“Here?”

Arya pulled at the stays on his tunic.  “You have a room nearby?”

Gendry let her pull his shirt off while he worked at her tunic.  She kissed him again as he worked.  It was okay by him.  He didn’t need to see to finish the task.  They broke apart to peel away their shirts.  It was cold.  He wished they at least had a fire to keep them warm, but Arya’s touched burned wherever she touched.

Arya shucked her pants and pushed him down on the blanket of clothes they had made.  Gendry pulled her head down to kiss her again.  His hands wandered over her body.  His mouth went to her neck.  He relished the small gasp that escaped her lips.

She was working herself down over him before he knew it.  Gendry grabbed her around the waist and turned them over.  Arya stared up at him wide eyed.  He grinned down at her before rocking his hips forward.  He saw the delight light in her eyes.  She hitched her legs higher and spurred him on like he was one of the horses.

She sighed beside him with content.  Gendry sat back and stared down at her.  He wondered if it would be enough for him.  To have her like this.  Not as a wife, but as a lover.  So long as she was willing, he would never take a wife.  There would only ever be Arya for him.  Couldn’t she see he would do anything for her?

Gendry’s eyes dropped down to her scars again.  He could just barely see them in the dark of the forest.  Arya could see him looking.  She sat up and started pulling her clothes back on.  Gendry reached out to her too quickly.  She pulled away a bit.

“Wait.” He begged.  He kissed her again.  “Do we have to go back just now?”

Arya dropped her eyes down his body.  She looked back at him.  “It’s cold out here.  We could get sick.”

Gendry sighed and sat back, working his shirt from under Arya.  It was wet and cold, but he put it on anyway.  Arya slid into his lap and kissed him long and good.  Gendry fell back in the wet grass and let her have her way.  No sooner had they finished again than Tormund’s drunken words came back to him.

“Was I really your first?” He asked like the idiot he was.

Arya pulled up her pants and worked at the ties.  She frowned at Gendry.

“You’re my only.”  She assured.

Gendry pulled up his own pants wearing the biggest grin he’d ever had.  He knew Tormund was full of shit.  That wildling may have had more experience than he did, but he didn’t know Arya.  He shook his cloak out as best he could before tying it back around his shoulders.  He looked at Arya.  He couldn’t think of any woman he’d ever want to be with more than her.  If he had to give her the moon for that to happen, he’d do it.

The Hound was up when they got back to the fire.  He took one look at them and groaned so loud he sent the wolves howling.  Gendry sat down beside the fire and tried to warm back up.  Arya stood a ways away plucking at leaves stuck to her clothes with dew.

“Here I had hoped the wolves had dragged the two of you off.” He grumbled.

Nymeria stood and began to sniff at Arya.  Her hair was a mess and filled with grass.  Her cheeks were flushed.  Arya scratched at the wolf’s ears.  Ears that were as large as her hand.  Gendry remembered the first time he’d seen Ghost.  Jon’s wolf looked like a puppy beside Nymeria.  The wolf pressed her nose against Arya’s belly sniffing deeply.  Gendry’s stomach dropped when the she wolf turned its big, yellow eyes on him.

The animal stepped over to him.  It was unnerving that it could be so silent as big as it was.  It’s nose was cold against Gendry’s cheek.  He ducked his head and leaned away.  Nymeria sniffed at his cloak and tunic.  Her teeth were as long as his fingers.

“Nymeria, you’re scaring him.” Arya admonished.

Nymeria’s ears flicked back at the sound of her voice.  She gave a final huff and plopped down beside him.  Arya stared at the wolf with a blank expression.  Gendry wished she’d just say what she was thinking.

“We’ll reach Harrenhal tomorrow.  We’ll sleep in an inn.  Unless your damned wolves kill the villagers.” The Hound grumbled.

“If they do, it just means we don’t have to pay.”

The Hound gave a short laugh and shook his head.  “Cold bitch.” He muttered.

Arya moved to the fire at last and lay down.  She pulled her cloak around her and shut her eyes.  Her cheeks were still flushed and grass and leaves still clung to her.  He could watch her forever.  Whatever she did.  Wherever she went.  He’d always found her fascinating.  He’d never known a girl so fearless.  Maybe not fearless.  He’d seen her afraid too many times to count.  But brave.

They shared a room at an inn outside Harrenhal.  Arya dropped 10 gold dragons into the innkeeper’s hand in exchange for their fattest pig.  She took it outside for Nymeria and the pack.  One pig wouldn’t be enough to feed them all, but Arya explained it might stave off any attacks on the villagers.

“I start east tomorrow.”  Gendry said though he knew she already knew.

Arya had relaxed around him again.  She’d been cagey since his proposal.  His stupid stupid proposal.  Arya locked up again.  She rolled onto her side away from him.  He touched her tentatively.  Just the tip of his fingers smoothing down her arm.

“You might get lost again.” She said.  “Then what will you do?”

 “Hot Pie said it was a straight shot once I hit the Bay of Crabs.”

“What does Hot Pie know about traveling?”

“Well, he works at the crossroads.  Talks to a lot of travelers.  I figure he must’ve picked up something over the years.” Gendry reasoned.

Arya had nothing to say back to that.  Gendry flipped onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.  His chest hurt all over again as a sudden realization dawned on him.  There was a very real possibility that this was the last he would see of Arya Stark.  Either of them could die or they both could.  Even if they survived, she didn’t want to be with him.  She might vanish into the trees or across the seas.

“Do you remember the last time we came to Harrenhal.  When we were in chains?” Arya whispered.

Gendry looked over at the back of her head.  “Yeah, and I almost had a rat eat through my gut?”

“I thought we were going to die a thousand times over, but we never did.”  She sounded strangely hollow.  “I was sure we were going to die at Winterfell.  I thought the Others would take us all, but we didn’t.  We both survived.”

“Thanks to you.”  He pointed out.  Arya was quiet for a long while.

“You can’t die this time either.” She said at last.  “You have to survive and you have to go and be Lord of Storm’s End.  And you have to marry some highborn lady and have a family and live happily.”

Gendry felt the life whoosh out of him. 

“I won’t.” He said.  “You’re all the family I’ve ever had.  You’re it.  Just you.”

“Please.  You had those three other girls.”

Gendry turned Arya onto her back so she would look at him.  “I never loved them.  Never.”

Arya avoided his eyes.  “You could.  You could love someone else.”

“I never will.”

“Gendry –”

Gendry silenced her by kissing her fiercely.  If it was to be their last night together he’d rather they spent it happily.  He didn’t want it to be true.  He didn’t want them to never see each other again.  To never touch each other again.  Never kiss each other.

He woke up to an empty bed.  It hurt, but he was unsurprised.  They hadn’t left long before him.  A few wolves still lingered.  They looked at him expectantly as they followed him down the road.  When he reached the fork leading east, he faltered.  If he continued south he’d meet up with them again.  He’d see her again.

Gendry turned his horse to the left and started for Maidenpool.  The wolves started after him at first until they realized he wasn’t going to join up with their pack.  Then, they abandoned him, too.

**ARYA**

“If you love him so much, why’d you turn him down?” The Hound graveled.

Arya fixed her face for the lie.  “I don’t love him.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Arya looked down at Nymeria, still padding along beside her.  Not even Grey Wind had been so big when she’d seen him at Riverrun.  Arya remembered what it had felt like to see him slaughtered in his cage.  To see her brother’s headless body paraded around.  She remembered thinking that her father must have looked the same at the Sept of Baelor.

She spent her life having her family snatch away from her.  Her home.  Everyone she loved.  The ache she got in her chest just thinking about them was near unbearable.  She didn’t want to love anyone else.  Gendry made it so hard not to love him.  If she didn’t, maybe she wouldn’t be so terrified that he would be just another body to burn.

 _Cersei, the Mountain, Euron_.  She thought.  The Hound had inssited he be the one to kill his brother, but until the man’s body lay at her feet, his name would stay on her list.  She repeated the list in her head over and over again.  She must have said it a million times by the time the golden city appeared before them.  Nestled on the shore.

Arya had been excited to go to King’s Landing back when she was a child.  It screamed of adventure and excitement.  By the time they’d reached the crossroads, Arya’s excitement had waned.  Now she rode side by side with the man who ran down her friend all those years ago.  Mycah who was just as excited to see King’s Landing as she had been.

“Looks like shit.” Arya announced, staring at the city.  Nymeria and the pack had run off to hunt.  Arya wasn’t worried.  She’d either come back or start back for the Riverlands.

“Smells like shit, too.”  The Hound agreed.

They rode down from the hill towards the gates.  She had no idea how the Hound planned on getting through the gates without someone recognizing him.  There wasn’t a soul in all of Westeros that didn’t know his face.

Arya pulled up on her reins.  The Hound left to take a piss.  She had to work quickly.  She’d already changed out of her Northerner garb at Harrenhal.  Now she pulled out a dress.  She’d had Sansa make it for her special.  She pulled found her serving wench’s face and changed.  She was tying a scarf around her hair when the Hound reappeared.

He squinted at her and then at the horse.  Arya smiled.  The serving wench had a pretty face and a nice smile.  Most men looked lustful when they saw her.  She remembered Walder Frey smacking her rear lasciviously before she slit his throat.

“Who’re you?” The Hound growled.

“Annara, M’lord.” She said with a flutter of her lashes.

The Hound moved over and snatched her horse’s reins from her.  “Best you leave here while you can, girl.”

“Leave?”  She frowned.  “That’s just what I intended, but m’lord snatched away the horse.”

“This isn’t your horse.  If you were smart, girl, you’d run the other way before the horse’s owner gets back ad sees you tried to steal from her.” The Hound warned.

Arya wanted to laugh.  He was using Arya to threaten a stranger.  Annara sashayed over to the Hound and settled her hand on his forearm flirtatiously.  Just to see what he would do.  The Hound scowled down at her and snatched his arm away.

“Go before the wolves come.” He snapped.

“Wolves, M’lord?”  She asked innocently.

As if summoned, they appeared out of the forest around them.  Nymeria came last.  Annara looked frightened.  She looked up at the Hound.  Even he looked wary.  Almost as bad as when they’d been surrounded by them at the crossroads.

“Where’s that damned girl when you need her?” He muttered.

Nymeria stepped over to Annara and stuck her nose in her face.  She snuffled and Annara squeezed her eyes shut with fear.  Nymeria lowered her head and nuzzled Annara’s belly.  She sighed in defeat.  She could fool a hound, but not a wolf.

Annara scratched at the wolves big head familiarly.  Her muzzle was coated with blood.  The pack must have been successful in their hunt. 

“Faceless Men.” The Hound rumbled.  “Fuck’s sake.  I thought the shapeshifting was a myth.”

Annara patted Nymeria and rolled her eyes at the Hound.  “I can’t very well walk into King’s Landing as Arya Stark and expect a private meeting with the queen.”

“You think a lowborn girl is any better?”  He challenged.

“Annara will get me through the gates.  Once I’m there, I can get myself a new face.  I’m thinking her hand will give me the access I need.”

“And how do you plan on getting to the hand?”

Annara smiled easily at him.  “Oh, well, I have information about the queen’s brothers.  Very important.”

The Hound frowned at her thoughtfully.  “My brother’s still mine to kill.”  He grumbled, mounting his horse.

“Unless he kills you first.” Annara tossed back.  Her peasant’s dress made it harder to ride.  “Pull up your hood, Father.”

The Hound scoffed to mask a chuckle.  He did as she said and they rode toward the gates in relative silence.  The Hound pulled up before they left the trees.  He stared first at the gate then at Annara.

“You’re right, you know.  He might kill me.  So if I die, I want you to promise me something.”

Annara nodded easily.  Annara could promise anything.  She wasn’t real.

“Arya, promise me.” The Hound insisted.

“It’s Annara.” She corrected.

“Yes, but I’m talking to _Arya Stark_.  The bitch that killed the Night King.  And I want Arya Stark to make me a promise.”

She never gave the Hound enough credit.  He was smarter than anyone would guess.  She pulled Annara’s face away and met the Hound’s eyes evenly.

“What?”

The Hound looked back at the gate again.  “If you don’t die in there I want you to find that smith.  You don’t have to marry the idiot, but you do have to find him.”

“Why do you care?” Arya asked, startled by his request.

The Hound glowered at her.  “Because I don’t want you to spend all your thinking on death just so you can end up a miserable old shit like me.  You’re alive.  He’s alive.  And you love each other.  I may not like the cunt, but I know he’s good for you.  Promise me.”

Arya looked down at Nymeria at her side.  Wild as she was, she’d come when Arya had needed her.  She was here with her whole pack.

“ _Arya_.”  The Hound insisted.

“I promise.”

She pulled Annara’s face back over her own.  She had promised.  It didn’t feel like a lie.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not an outright happy ending, but it's a hell of a lot more hopeful than the show left us.


End file.
